


Kidnapped

by AnonymityisCrucial



Series: Whumptober 2018 [7]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fingernail tearing, Gen, Kinda, Like, Mentioned Kidnapping, Torture, Waterboarding, as per the prompt, i cringed writing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymityisCrucial/pseuds/AnonymityisCrucial
Summary: Day 7: KidnappedMac gets kidnapped, again, from his home. He was expecting the usual spiel, and was unprepared for them to not care when he gave information. The threat of torture didn't scare him as much as they assurance that they would get what they wanted eventually.





	Kidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, I'm a failure! I am sooooooo very late with all of this, and struggling my way through everything because (and I know excuses are useless things) I've been super busy and distracted by a lot happening, and I've semi-lost my muse for these. The ending of this is a bit shaky and weird because I got super into whump and distracted myself from my point, so yeah. I apologize for my inability to remember what's happening and failure to remember that I actually have to put words on a page in order to make a story.

At this point in his career, getting kidnapped was a common occurrence. It happened so often it should have been in the job description. ‘Disclaimer: In taking this job, you will need to be able to handle getting shot at, having hits out on you, getting kidnapped, etc. on a daily basis’. Maybe it was in the fine print past the fine print, but he wasn’t certain. At this point, all Mac was sure of was that he was more annoyed at getting kidnapped than anything. It was so commonplace that he rolled his eyes through the whole spiel the kidnapper gave him as to why he was the one taken and all that. Usually, as in this case, it was because whoever nabbed him wanted him to use his skills to help them. Thankfully, most of them meant his bomb knowledge rather than his other talents.

He didn’t even know the name of the guy who grabbed him this time, he just opened the door to greet a person who looked like they were merely collecting donations for something, a plain-clothes, boring, common-looking man with a simple smile on his face. Next thing Mac knew was he was waking up in a building, zip tied and duct taped to a metal chair that was welded to the floor. This at least allowed him to know that his kidnapper wasn’t a novice, and they must know about his proclivity with getting out of restraints. He could feel the zip ties digging into his skin beneath the thick layer of duct tape that held him fast. Even his legs were attached to the chair with larger zip ties and even more duct tape.

The common-looking man, John, Mac decided to call him due to the simple, unrememberable nature of him. John started on his whole rant about wanting Mac to help him build some bombs to get back at people who wronged him and such, the usual, nothing new. The only thing was that this man was not a man who took control, but rather one that took orders from someone else. To most people, it’d seem fairly straight-forward, but the way he was restrained told Mac otherwise, as well as how John held himself.

“Look, sounds great, but in order to make bombs, I’m going to need my hands and supplies, neither of which I am able to get at the moment. There’s also the whole issue with the fact that you don’t actually need bombs, someone else needs something from me, and they’re using you because you’re unsuspecting enough that I would open my door for you.”

“And how would you know this Mr. Macgyver?” John questioned, looking very much the part of an angry, disgruntled kidnapper who was interrupted. “You have nothing that would give you that kind of impression.”

“Actually, I do. See, the way I’m restrained, duct taped and zip tied, tells me that whoever wants something from me doesn’t want me to be able to pick a lock, or cut through duct tape, or break a zip tie, quickly. They also welded all of the joints of the chair together, and then welded it to the floor as well, which shows they know I know how to get out of restraints using other methods. Then there’s you. You may act like you’re in charge, but the way you hold yourself says otherwise, and though you are a good actor, your eyes still show me that you don’t have anyone to get back at. Your words tell me you’re invested, the rest of you, not so much. So, who wants what from me?”

John didn’t move for a moment, but then he smiled and started laughing, shaking his head in slight disbelief. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair as his laugh slowed to a chuckle. Pursing his lips, he nodded before whistling.

“You know, they told me you were good, but I never thought that you’d get it so quick. I’m impressed.”

“Well, you know what they say, practice and all that,” Mac replied, deadpan, which made John smile wide, creepily so.

“Ah yes, your various experiences with being kidnapped from your own home. I was wondering something, been nagging me for a while actually, but why don’t you just move? See, a lot of people know where you live, a lot of people break in, easily I may add, and yet you still live there. I don’t get it.” Mac didn’t say anything. “Alright, fine, leave it a mystery. I have patience, I can wait. We have some time yet.”

Mac sat in silence, gazing boredly at John, who began tapping his foot, crossing his arms, before throwing his hands in the air in frustration not even a minute later. He was about to say something, but a shrill ring of a phone cut through the silence. John reached into his pocket with an annoyed mutter, before clearing his throat as he caught sight of the screen.

“What can I do for you my friend? I’ve been waiting for you to call,” John spoke after answering, sounding casual, and yet sinister at the same time. It was quite contradictory. “Of course I’ll put you on speaker phone, it’d be my pleasure.” With that, John took the phone away from his ear and pressed the screen. “It’s for you Mr. Macgyver,” John joked, chuckling as he did so.

“Hello?”

“Hello Angus.” Mac’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t recognize the voice, but usually only one person calls him Angus and kidnaps him.

“Murdoc?” The voice on the other end was silent for a moment before breaking out into laughter.

“Oh that’s wonderful, you think I’m Murdoc! Well, wouldn’t that be a hoot. Sorry to disappoint, but I am not your arch-nemesis. So, Angus, or do you prefer Mac? I never know if people prefer other names so I try to ask. Sometimes I forget and then I feel bad for calling them the wrong name and it’s just one big mess. Anyways, how are you, my friend didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“What do you want?”

“Oooo, okay! Right to the point. Well, I want you, of course, to use your various skills to assist me with something particular.”

“Why me, why not another bomb maker?”

“Oh Macgyver! Angus! You think I just want you for your bomb making abilities? That’s rich. I need your tendency to be able to make modifications and creations out of random objects. No one else in the world can do what you can. It’s quite impressive, I must say. I’ve been following you for a while. I’ve seen what you’ve accomplished and I am ecstatic to be working with you!” The voice on the other end of the phone sounded horribly cheerful and excited, which made Mac’s skin crawl with discomfort.

“I’m not going to be working with you. Not now, not ever. And what do you mean you’ve been watching me? How long?”

 

“For a few years now Mac, you know you never told me what you prefer to be called….” The voice paused to allow Mac to answer, but he stayed silent. “Fine, but don’t get pissy with me if I call you by the wrong name. Jeez, you try to do something nice and people just, ugh! It’s so frustrating sometimes, people. Anywho, of course you’re going to be working with me silly, that’s the whole point of you being here.” The voice sounded genuinely confused over why Mac was refusing they’re offer. “We’re partners. In it for the long hall, till the end of the line, you know?”

“I. Will. Never. Work. For. You,” Mac said, making sure each work was as sharp as the last. John’s face revealed that perhaps refusing wasn’t the best idea, but at this point, it was too late to take back, so he was hoping that eventually they’d get somewhere, whether it be torture or letting him go, or threats. Mac knew the drill.

“See, I figured early on you’d say that, and normally, I’d threaten you, but we know you don’t really care. I’d also threaten your little makeshift, modge podge family, but that feels a bit cliche you know? I mean, I’m still going to hang the fact that I know where each of them are at this exact moment in time, and where they all live, and even their online lives, yes, even Riley’s, though her security is impressive, I must say. I do have that to hold over you, and before you even say they’ll find you, I know they will eventually, most families don’t give up unless it’s been years or there’s confirmation they’re gone. Even then, sometimes they don’t stop.”

“What did you do?”

 

“Nothing yet. They’re all alive, and they’re trying to find you, but I’m afraid that they are having a bit of trouble because there were no witnesses, no fingerprints, no cells to track, or ping, or whatever. There weren’t even cameras to see what happened. Speaking of which, you should really install some cameras, that way you could see who it was before opening the door like an idiot, maybe one of those camera doorbell things, where you can talk to the person through it too? You know those? I’d suggest it.”

“How long have I been in here? And where is this? You might as well tell me seeing as I can’t get out or contact anyone to let them know.”

“I suppose, they’ll find you eventually anyways, and seeing as you’re currently unwilling to work with me, perhaps it is best if they just take you back. Maybe another day you’ll be more willing to work with me. It’s not something that needs to happen soon, just eventually. You were out for roughly a day, and you’ve been awake for about an hour at this point, so in total, you’ve been missing for about 25 hours and your friends have only just started looking for you about seven hours previous. Apparently, you’ve done something recently that’s warranted them thinking you just wanted space. Then Jack popped over by your house and found you gone, and your phone there. From then on, they’ve been trying to figure out what happened to you. They’ve got no leads.”

“You never told me where I am.”

 

“Well you aren’t in Kansas anymore, I can tell you that. And by Kansas I mean California. You’re also still in the states. I’d tell you the exact location, but that’s no fun. Plus, I’m sure your friends will find us sometime soon; the name of the place we’re at is kind of an obvious one.”

“So I’m just going to sit here until they find me?”

 

“Or until you decide to assist me with my task, either works for me, I’m not picky. Just know that you will, eventually, help me, whether you like it or not, or whether you know it or not.”

“I will never help you.”

“Don’t say never Macgyver, you never know what could change in the future,” the voice tutted, sounding almost like a parent speaking to a child. Mac hated it. “My friend Michael here will keep you company until right before your friends arrive. I have told him he has free reign, except for anything mortally wounding, or anything that permanently hinders. You’re welcome Angus Macgyver! And toodles! We’ll be speaking again soon!”

“Wait-,” Mac tried to say, but was cut off by the voice hanging up. The phone went dark and John, now known as Michael, removed it from Mac’s line of vision, shoving it in his pocket. In all honesty, Mac had forgotten that Michael was still in the room with him. He was too focused on trying to decipher everything that was happening that it slipped his mind that he was in a room with a man who was now grinning dangerously. 

“Now that boss has given me the go-ahead, I say we can have some fun,” Michael said, wandering away before coming back, wheeling a cart with various tools on it. “Say, Macgyver, have you ever had your fingernails removed? I hear it hurts like a sonofabitch, but I think that I’ll start by some bamboo under then and then removal, hmm? Sound good to you?” Mac merely glared at the man, not trusting his voice. He was silently hoping that Jack found him really, really soon because just by the way the man looked at him like he was an animal to be carved, Mac could tell that he was about to be in a world of pain.

Michael had skinny bamboo skewers in his hand, ten total, and Mac tried to pull his hands away, but only succeeded in curling his fingers around the armrests. Michael tsked before using his free hand to wretch his pointer finger from it hiding place and force it out.

“The easier you make it, the less pain I’ll let you feel, but please, struggle all you want,” Michael said before jabbing the pointed end of the skewer under Mac’s fingernail and pushing it deep. Mac bit his tongue hard enough that it started bleeding, tears leaking from his eyes. One by one, Michael pried Mac’s fingers open and shoved a bamboo skewer under each nail. After the fourth one, Mac gave up trying not to whimper and by the sixth one, he was freely crying out in pain. After ten, his hands burned, blood running along the skewers before dripping to the floor. Michael stepped back, looking thoughtful, before nodding, almost as if approving of his work.

“Why are you doing this?” Mac gasped, trying to not focus on the searing agony shooting through his fingers, hands, and arms. Michael merely laughed.

“I’m doing this because it’s how I make a living. I have learned from the best, just as you have. The only difference is that you were taking measures to lessen pain and suffering and I embraced it. Now, I think it’s about time that we removed those pesky things now don’t you?” Michael sauntered over, small pliers in his hand, as he ripped out one skewer, causing Mac to shout with newfound pain. “Oh I’m sorry, did that hurt? How about this?” Mac barely had time to blink before suddenly the pliers were gripping his fingernail and slowly pulling it from it’s bed.

Michael took his time, slowly dragging the nail from its place as Mac screamed himself hoarse. He took his time with every single nail, dragging, ripping, and doing so as slow as he could. By the time he was left with no fingernails, Mac was panting heavily, sobs wracking his body. Who cared about being tough when everything hurt like hell.

“There we go! You did splendidly. Now, what shall we do next? How about we do something along the lines of that one thing, Death by a Thousand Cuts, or whatever, only minus the death part. I even have a special surprise, citrus! Stings like a bitch, but you’ll live. What do you say?”

“Go to hell,” Mac cursed, voice scratchy and barely existent. It felt like it had been hours, days even, and he was certain that Michael was nowhere near finished. He really hoped Jack would get to him soon or he may, unintentionally, end up dead, even though Michael certainly seemed to know what he was doing.

“Well that’s rude, you don’t get to tell me what to do, but I suppose I did ask what you say, so, I guess I should have expected that. It’s only been a little over an hour, Macgyver, don’t tell me you’re done yet?” Mac merely glared at him, sweat slowly beading on his face. “Fabulous! Now, time to slice and dice.”

For the next four hours, Michael took his time putting Mac through as much pain as possible. He truly did make 1000 tiny cuts across his arms and torso and then proceed to coat them in something that Mac was pretty sure was lemon juice, but he was in a bit of pain so he couldn’t be too sure. After the cuts, Michael decided that waterboarding would be a fun idea, but not with water, but with Nitrogen, which brought back too many memories for Mac.

“I haven’t even put the mask on you and you’re already freaked out. What, has someone pulled this trick on you already? Shame, always fun to do something new, but alas, we’ll have to push onward.” With that, Michael slipped the mask over Mac’s head, tightening the strap so it was secure. While he was speaking, Mac had taken a deep breath in and held it as long as he could, or at least until Michael rolled his eyes in annoyance and punched him, hard, in the gut, forcing him to breathe out and then inhale the Nitrogen. Mac’s eyes went wide as his body struggled for air, but could find any oxygen to take in. 

The world started to swim and spots danced in his vision until Michael lifted the mask off his face, allowing the blonde to take in gulps of fresh air, or stale air, but it was still oxygen. Mac coughed harshly, trying to draw in as much oxygen as he could, but just as he was going to inhale again, the mask made its way back over his face and all he sucked in was Nitrogen. The cycle seemed never ending until Michael’s phone chimed as Mac was allowed to breathe again, allowing him more time to catch his breath. His nerve endings were on fire, body burning, especially his fingers, and his mind only focused on that despite Mac wishing otherwise.

The muffled world was blurry and suddenly Michael appeared right in front of his unfocused eyes, which immediately focused on his face, his plain, ordinary face that would proceed to haunt his nightmares for days.

“Well Mac, it seems your friends have finally found this place, so I’m going to leave you alone now. I’m going to put this mask back on, but don’t worry about suffocating too quickly, I’ve made sure that the level it’s feeding you is just enough that if they take too long, you’ll just be passed out and probably not breathing. If they take the expected amount of time, they’ll find you nearly passed out, but you’ll be fine once oxygen is reintroduced to your system. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a blast. I hope I get to meet you again.”

The mask was slipped back over Mac’s face, and then Michael faded from Mac’s vision as he wheezed. The room was fuzzy, fading in and out of focus, and suddenly there was a blurry face in front of Mac’s, which terrified him. He jerked back and let out an undignified whine as he tried to get away from whoever this new person was. The mask suddenly vanished from his face, allowing him to gulp in fresh air like he’d never tasted anything better.

“Hey, hey Mac, you with me bud? Dammit, what did they do to you kid?” Mac’s vision finally righted itself enough to see that the person in front of him wasn’t someone who was trying to hurt him, but someone he trusted with his life.  
“J’ck, you came,” Mac wheezed, sagging against the man as his bindings were cut away. Jack gently hoisted him up to help support him after confirming that Mac, could indeed, still walk.

“Of course kid, I’d never abandon you. And after this, I’m never letting you out of my sight again. You seriously need some security at your house man; I’ll even install it myself.”

“Noted. How’d you find me?” Mac asked as Jack helped him onto the stretcher waiting for him outside the place he was kept, before both were loaded into the back of the ambulance before it started its journey to the nearest hospital to take care of Mac’s injuries.

“You wouldn’t believe it, we had a time frame of how far whoever took you could get, and on it there were a few places that we could have checked out, but then Phoenix got this anonymous ping a bit later, some coordinates, that led to here, a house on Dalton circle in Texas. I mean, how much creepier could this get, and and the name of the owner? Phoenix Galilee. Phoenix man. This person or group or whatever knows to much. Did they ask you anything? Tell you anything?”

“Just your standard questions.” The ambulance arrived at the hospital, and Mac was unloaded and wheeled away, Jack right at his side. They were taking him back for some testing, seeing as his breathing was still wheezy and he couldn’t get much air in.

“I’ll be right here man, always.” Mac could only smile in response before an oxygen mask was placed back over his face as he passed out.


End file.
